The Quirkiest of Them All
by Bluesunkatsuri
Summary: Servants see everything. They know everything that goes down in the Household they work for, and that is exactly what makes it such an interesting job. However, serving the Hohenzollern family is perhaps the most interesting job in the world. That would all be due to that one teen, the one with the white hair. The quirky young man who went by the name Prussia.


**It's January 18 and, according to the character bios, that mean it's Prussia's birthday!**

 **For once I had a bout of inspiration at the right moment, so I could stray away from writing Hope to Die to produce this little thing here in time ':D**

 **Very different from what I usually do, though one thing is as per usual: this was written to fit in somewhere within the Cross Your Heart & Hope to Die timeline, though it shouldn't be confusing for people who haven't read those fics. So if you haven't, you'll be fine! ;)  
(Though I will admit, not everything in here is true to CYH&HtD completely, so for those who have read it, don't consider this 'canon' too much)**

 **Oh well, I hope you'll enjoy this little tidbit here~!**

* * *

There was never a dull moment as a servant to the royal Hohenzollern family. For five years she had been in the King's service, and for five years she had been astounded by how unusual this household was.  
The King, to be mild about it, had his quirks. He was a good man, but he had some serious anger management issues. This became especially bad when he was faced with what he perceived as the many flaws of the even quirkier Crown Prince, young Frederick.  
Now the Crown Prince's behaviour was at its most erratic, she had found out rather quickly when she had first started to work here, when he was together with the quirkiest of them all.  
That had to be the immortal, the personification of this land, the young man who went by the name Prussia. Though sometimes he did tell people to call him Gilbert instead, but only rarely so. At first she hadn't believed it when she had been told that he was centuries old, this boy who looked like he wasn't even out of his teens yet. In fact, he was so young that he'd given Prince Frederick some annoyed, even jealous looks when the young man had first started getting stubble, she'd been told by servants who had been here longer. After hearing that story, she started paying attention to it, and they were right about one thing: either this Prussia shaved before his chin even got the chance to grow any stubble, or he just honestly was that young.  
But no, the man was centuries old. It had been difficult to believe at first indeed. But then, as the years passed, she had started to believe it more easily. After all, five years would have made a difference on a teenager, wouldn't it? She guessed he was roughly 17 years old, so by now he should have been in his early 20s. If he had aged.  
Now Prussia was rightfully deserving of the title 'The Quirkiest of them All' for many reasons. The first would be his infamous mood-swings. She had been told that, many years ago already, at the start of this century, he had lost his wife, something he'd never gotten over yet (that this 'wife' had been Brandenburg was something she tried not to pay too much attention to, also; the world of nation personifications was complicated enough if there was only one she had to know about). His mood was especially bad on the 13th of August each year, the anniversary of her death, and the 14th of July -the anniversary of their wedding over a century ago, as she'd been told- was also one of his worst days a year. Other than that, his mood was very dependent on how much time he got to spend with the Prince, who seemed to be his favourite person in the household, if not the entire world.  
His second quirk would be his overuse of the word 'awesome'. Nothing was ever 'good', it was 'awesome'. Nothing was ever 'bad', it would be called 'unawesome'. So basically, one could tell his mood from his choice of words with ease: if he used 'awesome' more than once every few sentences, he was happy. On the other hand, when he used 'unawesome' even once, it was best to steer clear of him.  
He could be a little violent when he was angry, much like the King.  
His relationship with the Crown Prince was a unique one, too. For starters, he called the other teen Fritz rather than Frederick, something which none of the other people here could ever hope to do without getting into trouble (His Majesty the King did not like nicknames). Prussia got away with it, for whatever reason.  
Another thing was that they were almost like brothers, but not quite. They did everything together if they had the chance (not taking into account that little incident where the Crown Prince had tried to flee to England and had been sent away by his father for some years, during which time Prussia had been rather angry at his friend as well) and they had a knack for getting into trouble. Lots of trouble.

She remembered a time when the two had gotten it into their heads that they could go on a hunting trip with just the two of them. Somewhere along the way they had managed to run out of bullets, followed by what she found even more incomprehensible: they had been stalking a stag, apparently, and somehow ended up being chased by said stag instead of the other way around. The animal had sharp antlers, the Crown Prince had defended himself when his father had asked him about the few tears in his coat and the scratch on his jawline. Honestly, she thought he was lucky that that was all. In the end, it had been the knife Prussia had taken with him and the nation's skill with said weapon that had saved their lives. Well, that of the Crown Prince, that is. Prussia was immortal, after all (but then, how had his wife died? She had never dared to ask about it).  
Then there were the stories the Queen had told her from time to time, about when the Crown Prince had been but a toddler and Prussia, of course, had been about the same age he was now. Back then they had been more like brothers than they were now, with Prussia as the elder brother. The albino teenager would often sneak books to every moment he and young Frederick had alone, and they would sit and read together, the young Prince on Prussia's lap and the nation helping the little boy with words that he didn't know yet. She almost wished she could've been there to see it; it must have been adorable.  
Prussia was also the one to have given the Crown Prince his flute, which had to be kept away from His Majesty the King at all times according to the young man, as his father would undoubtedly get rid of it the moment he got his hands on it. The flute was his most treasured possession, as it had been given, as he had once said it himself, by his most treasured person.  
And that was exactly where things were at its most… _unique_ … between the two young men.

She, as well as all the other servants, had noticed the looks the Crown Prince would give Prussia from time to time way back before The Incident had happened. Back then Prussia hadn't seemed to notice it much. Nowadays, after The Incident and now that the Crown Prince was back home again, he gave the young human the same looks sometimes. She had passed them in the hallway more than once as they stood talking in soft voices, heads close together.  
Once she had passed them when they'd had their heads so close together that their lips had been touching. For the sake of secrecy she refused to call that event between them a kiss, although of course she knew it had been. It was very simple, though: the Crown Prince kissing his nation was the topic of juicy gossip, something that was hard to keep secret. Her earlier description of it, on the other hand, was not, and therefore it was perfectly safe so long as she would never let the King know of it. Honestly, she liked Prince Frederick a lot, he was a very nice young man, and she wouldn't want him to get into more trouble with his father than he already had over the years, so she would never betray him or Prussia in this.  
Although it was sometimes very difficult to keep quiet.

The hardest thing to never speak of to anyone, was something that had occurred only the week before: it had been early in the morning and she had been scrubbing the floors in the halls, as was one of her many duties here. She had been outside the Crown Prince's chambers, when suddenly the door had creaked open slowly. Immediately she'd rushed to get to her feet, ready to greet His Highness as she should, but she had been unable to make a sound when she saw not Frederick, but Prussia creeping out of the room very carefully, as if he was trying not to get caught.  
Of course, when he'd turned to very quietly close the door again and he'd caught sight of her, they had ended up staring at each other for some time, wide-eyed and silent, as Prussia's face slowly became as red as his irises.  
When he finally continued breathing again -she only then noticed that she, too, had been holding her breath, and hastily gulped in air- he seemed to shiver with dread for a moment. "Oh, boy…" the young nation had brought out weakly, more to himself than to her it seemed, gaze turning to the floor instead. "God, that's… that's awkward… Highly unawesome, this…"  
"My apologies, Prussia," she had stammered quickly, for the lack of a better response.  
He'd just shook his head and sighed. "Err, no, uh… N-no matter." Then that silence returned, and she felt more uncomfortable with the second. So did Prussia, apparently. She had never heard him stammer like that before. Eventually the albino teenager looked up again, blushing profoundly and his eyes still wide with discomfort and embarrassment. "Y-you won't say a thing, w-will you?" he asked almost desperately, his voice hushed as if he feared there was anyone else around to hear him. "I-I mean, n-n-not that there is much to… to say, I m-mean… We didn't really... Not really, it's just…" He shook his head, gaze turned to the floor again as he shuffled uncomfortably. "His Royal Unawesomeness would never believe that, anyway, so… best that he doesn't hear a word, you know."  
She had nodded. "He won't hear a thing from me," she had promised him, at which the young nation sighed in relief, his eyes shining a little more again. She liked it when his eyes reflected happiness, joy, relief or any positive emotion like that: sometimes his red irises would sparkle like rubies when that happened. It was at moments like those, she thought, that she wasn't surprised that the young Crown Prince had taken such a _special_ liking to his nation; she could easily get lost staring at those two perfect rubies also, if she allowed herself to. Which, naturally, she never did. It's just that she _could_ , hypothetically speaking, fall head over heels for this young man whenever he smiled with genuine joy like that and his eyes sparkled a bright red, a strong contrast to his flawless white skin.  
Had she mentioned before that Prussia was a rather handsome young man, too? Because for all his quirks, he really was something to look at, once you got past the albinism, which usually scared people off at first sight. She, herself, had been uncomfortable around him as well at first, unfortunately.  
But anyway, Prussia had smiled, deeply grateful for her promise. "Thank you, honestly," he'd sighed in relief, chuckling for a moment. "You're absolutely awesome, you know that?" After saying that, he turned around and started walking away.  
She just stood staring after him as he left, broom in hand, wondering what had just happened. Well, he had just called her 'awesome', which was kind of like Prussia's seal of approval. Five years into this job and she had finally been declared awesome by her nation. Honestly, she almost felt as if she'd received a promotion.  
Then, as she was still staring at him, she noticed something which for some reason she had failed to notice before: Prussia was only half dressed as he hastily made his way down the hall, back in the direction of his own room. She smirked a little at this as she went back to work.  
'They hadn't really…'  
Yeah, sure they hadn't.

Another thing that made her life so interesting and unique since she had started working for the Hohenzollerns, was the slight chance of Prussia getting visitors. It hadn't happened often over the past five years, but it had happened. Shortly before The Incident, two young men had been here together with their shared monarch. They claimed to be Saxony and Poland, something which she struggled to comprehend, as with everything concerning nations. Then shortly after The Incident came the most confusing of all: the young teen, younger than Prussia, with the name Holy Roman Empire. He also happened to be Prussia's _elder_ brother.  
Honestly, it had been back then already that she had decided it would be best if she just quit. There was no understanding the world of nation personifications and she wouldn't try anymore.  
She had just done her job, treated the boy with respect befitting an… well, an empire. Exactly as was expected of her, no more and no less.  
Other servants had told her that Prussia's interactions with his cousin, Austria, were among the funniest. The two got along like cats and dogs, she'd been told, and there was never a dull moment when they were forced to spend time together. When Hungary was there as well, it was at its most interesting; Prussia seemed to have a crush on the Hungarian woman, but Hungary was with Austria, which fuelled the tension between Austria and Prussia. She hoped they would come here sometime again, so that she could watch it all from a distance like all the others did. It was said to be hilarious.

There were the less hilarious moments with Prussia, too. He rarely ever got sick, for one, really only when there were troubles with politics or the economy, but when he did, he got it _bad_. The Incident had been particularly bad for him, his headaches so painful that he'd been bedridden because of it for some time. That combined with his sense of betrayal over the Crown Prince's actions had gotten the young man in a perpetual bad mood for weeks on end, and she had hated seeing him like that all the time.  
Then the one time he'd caught what he called a 'human virus' it had been brief but bad. She thought it was because he was too stubborn to rest and get better that he got so sick whenever he was unlucky enough to catch a virus. That one time he'd continued working until he had been close to collapsing because of his fever.  
Prussia was such a hard worker. He could look lazy and act even lazier, but he always got his work done and more. He was diligent and precise, ambitious but also patient. She respected him for that.  
If only he could take better care of himself.

Emotionally, too, he needed to take better care of himself. Five years, and she'd never known him to talk about all the things that bothered him. Maybe to Prince Frederick, but even that was something she wasn't sure about.  
Only once. She had heard him talk only once, shortly after returning from Vienna with the King and the Crown Prince, where they had been to meet the Crown Prince's fiancée. She was honoured that it had been her he'd talked to. Although, honestly, she hadn't given him much of a choice.  
That had been the one instance where she had neglected her duties and her lack of status around here and had treated him, not as her kingdom, but as the boy he still looked like.

It had been the evening after the trio's return, and she had been in the servants' chambers together with some of the others. Maria, one of the older servants, had sighed deeply. "His Highness didn't look too pleased, did he?" she asked no one in particular.  
Another woman, Hilda, had responded to this with a hint of laughter in her voice. "Naturally," she had said. "We all know His Highness would rather marry Prussia than any woman, after all."  
"Prussia seemed worst of all, though," Maria replied, ignoring the younger woman's joke. She looked troubled by it. "He looked pale, he's quiet and that in itself is unusual for him… Something must have happened."  
It was at that moment that she had gotten up without a word and had walked away. She knew Prussia would be in his room at this hour, and she immediately went that way. It was quite enough now, what with the young nation always keeping everything to himself. She had to at least make an effort to make him talk, even if she wouldn't succeed.  
She gave a knock on his door, but she didn't wait for a response before she went in.  
Prussia looked up from where he sat in the windowsill, staring at her wide-eyed and startled. Angry, too. She nearly flinched because of that, but she managed not to when she saw that his eyes were rimmed with pinkish-red and glassy.  
He glared at her though, gritting his teeth. "The fuck allowed you to barge in, woman?" he snarled, his voice a little bit shaky. "Get out, and hurry up a bit!" Then he sniffled softly, clearly unable to hold that back or he would never have done so.  
She sighed, not responding for a moment but feeling bad for him. "You know it won't do you any good if you never talk to anybody, right?" she then asked him, feeling uncomfortable with speaking to him in such an unprofessional manner.  
He snorted. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded angrily, sniffling again. "I talk all the time, dammit. I talk so much that people beg me to be quiet sometimes." Then he turned away, not looking at her anymore.  
"You know what I mean," she just insisted carefully.  
From there on it went pretty quickly, so much so that, now, she had trouble remembering exactly what had happened. Prussia had whipped around to glare at her again, his eyes both glassy with tears and ablaze with anger. "Oh, and then what?" he began yelling. "Should I just go around telling everybody about every single regret I have, then? Should I tell everyone how _lonely_ it is when so many people avoid me because of my _eyes_? Or, maybe, I should just have a speech about all the terrible things I've done and can never take back, just to let everyone know that, honestly, I'm _the_ most horrible, twisted person on this planet!" He broke off in a sob that he only half managed to bite back. But he wasn't done yet. "You know what happens when I talk about all that crap, you unawesome shit? _They hate me more_. People will only find more reasons to shun me and hate me and declare me demonic when they hear what goes on in my head, so _no_ , thank you very much."  
"Oh, yes, I hate you very much already," she replied sarcastically, though her heart sank at his words. She sighed then and took a step closer to him, remembering just in time to close the door. "Who would ever call you demonic?"  
Wrong question, because Prussia laughed hollowly. Well, she thought he was laughing. He might as well have been crying, but it was hard to tell the difference at that moment. "Oh, let's see," he said dryly, his voice still quivering, worse than before now. "Those men in the Teutonic Order, the people in Acre, basically everyone in the Order of the Knights Templar, the people in Hungary, those priests in Sicily, the original Prussians, that entire French village I tried to travel through once -bad idea, they burnt me at a goddamn stake- basically every citizen in Marienburg back in the day, some of my own soldiers and some of my family members, too. Need I go on? The list is _much_ longer, trust me."  
She shook her head quickly. "No, no, of course not," she stammered, taken aback by the answer she'd gotten. "Your appearance is unique, Prussia, no one can deny that," she then went on softly. "But that doesn't make you demonic."  
"You were scared of me at first, too," he accused her then, staring out the window, his back turned to her.  
She flinched for real now. That was true. Somehow she had to find words to set that right. "And I've been proven wrong," she said almost hesitantly. Then, tentatively, she went to stand right behind him. "There's nothing scary about you in any way. You're more like a goofy kid than anything else, the way I see it. And you know us servants see everything that goes on here," she added almost teasingly. "As for your skin, do you know how many people would love to have perfectly white, flawless skin like you do? In my honest opinion, also, your eyes are rather beautiful." She paused abruptly after having said that out loud for the first time, feeling embarrassed, but she couldn't stop there, she knew. "I know that there are many people who think badly of you, but just the same there will be many people who think of you like I do, like Prince Frederick does, or the King or the Queen, your brother and I'm sure there are others, too. Your albinism doesn't make them hate you. Talking won't make them hate you, either."  
Prussia didn't respond to that, just sat there, motionlessly staring out the window. She couldn't see his expression, and she prayed that he was taking her words as well as they were meant.  
She sighed softly and tentatively placed her hand on his shoulder. "I know that it won't be to me," she told him in a soft voice. "Not any more than you've already said, anyway. But for your own good, Prussia, please do talk to someone, just anyone. I'm sure Prince Frederick wouldn't mind listening to you. Please."  
Finally he let out a long, deep sigh, and nodded silently. She looked at his still figure a moment longer, hoping that he would actually take her advice seriously, then she turned to walk out the door and go back to the servants' chambers. But before she closed the door behind her again, she thought she could hear a soft mumble of thanks, and she smiled.

The next day Hilda had told her in an astonished voice and with wide eyes of surprise that she had seen the Crown Prince and Prussia standing together again, in the gardens, and even from a distance she had been able to tell that the young nation had been crying, at which Prince Frederick pulled him into an embrace and held him like that for some time. She had left before she could see what happened next, but the young woman told her that she had never seen the nation get emotional like that.  
That was just another of Prussia's little quirks, she thought.  
He was always full of surprises.

It was on the 18th of January one year when things got very interesting from breakfast onward. It was a habit of the King's children at least to have breakfast together whenever they got the chance, a habit they'd had since they were little (and, honestly, some of them were still little). Prussia would often join them, as he did that particular morning.  
She had been in the room next to the dining hall, cleaning, and had seen the nation walk past her to get there, stretching his back for a moment and yawning. Just rolled out of bed, of course. He did enjoy a good sleep-in every now and then.  
Almost the moment the albino teenager stepped into the dining hall, the Crown Prince's voice sounded, pretty loud and very cheerful. "Prussia!" he greeted his friend with even more cheer than he normally did. She smiled at this. What he said next, however, wiped that smile off her face, to replace it with an astonished look. "Happy birthday!"  
Happy… birthday?  
Prussia didn't do birthdays. He didn't really have one, for all she'd ever known. He was too old to remember what day he had been born on; she had only ever heard that it had been during the winter. Then she remembered that, at the start of this century, Prussia had been established as a kingdom rather than a duchy on the 18th of January. That was a birthday of sorts, wasn't it, for nations?  
The young kingdom didn't seem to appreciate his friend's gesture all that much, though, going by what she could hear from the other room. "You… you read my…?" he stammered, and she could just about picture him blushing as he said that. A cute image, really. "You-! You unawesome little jerk!"  
"You mean, have I read your bookshelves full of diaries?" the Crown Prince laughed a little. She had to force herself to keep on mopping the floor, but she couldn't stop listening anymore now. This was getting too interesting. Prussia kept diaries? Wow, talk about surprising. "I kind of have, sorry about that. I mean, not _all_ of them -that would take me years, no doubt- but kind of from where you started writing in German rather than Latin onward… Bits and pieces, yes."  
So Prussia wrote diaries, and he also wrote them in _Latin_ when he was younger? Full of surprises indeed.  
She knew that the kingdom was fluent in more languages than she could keep track of, though she knew that, aside from German, French and Italian and Dutch were among them… and now she could add Latin to that list, also. It was difficult to conceive sometimes, how someone with his looks -because he looked more like a soldier (a handsome soldier) than anything else, with his strong build and well-trained body- could also be so smart. Aside from so many languages, he had knowledge of the economy, of politics, trade, geography, history of course (he'd lived through most of it himself, after all) and also biology, mathematics, philosophy and, though this one was limited, he also knew a thing or two about chemistry.  
Once again. Full of surprises.  
Anyhow, Prussia had not reacted nicely to the usage of the word 'diary'. "T-they're _not_ diaries, you airhead!" he had yelled indignantly. "I have been recording _centuries_ of history -it's an honest effort to be of use to humanity, now and in the future!"  
The Crown Prince had only laughed some more. Carefully so, as to not rub Prussia the wrong way even more, but his laughter could be classified as more than just some chuckling for sure. "Oh, yes, how stupid of me," he'd replied teasingly. "Of course, your crush on Hungary is most certainly historical, indeed. No, actually, it's more along the lines of _hysterical_." Prussia began yelling something at this, but the Prince wouldn't even let him finish a single word. "Also, has Brandenburg ever read what you wrote on your wedding day? The poor girl -I would've packed up and left right away!"  
Suddenly it was quiet in the other room, and she nervously held her breath as she waited for what would happen next. She'd even stopped mopping the floor without really realising it. 'Brandenburg' was on the list of semi-banned words, 'speak at your own risk'.  
To her surprise and relief, Prussia seemed to take it well. "Brand hated our marriage as much as I did at first," he replied almost calmly. "She would've just had a good laugh about it, I'm sure."  
It was quiet after that for a few seconds longer, but then the Prince spoke again, much more quietly, calm and without laughter in his voice. "Well, anyway, happy 600-somethingth birthday, Prussia."  
A snort. "Thanks, Fritz, you jerk."  
Some of the Prince's siblings then wished their nation and good friend a happy birthday, too, and from there on it was mostly quiet in the other room again. There was some soft chatter, some laughter. All in all, everyone seemed to be in a good mood there.  
She had nearly finished when slowly everyone left the dining hall to start working on their daily duties. Prussia was among the first who passed her, and she looked up from her work for just a moment. "Happy birthday, sir," she said in a calm, innocent manner.  
He stopped and stared at her for a moment, surprised, then cracked a tiny little grin and went on his way without saying anything.

As she stared after him, the greatest enigma of the Hohenzollern household, she smiled a little.

There was never a dull moment as a servant to the royal Hohenzollern family. And that, without a doubt, was thanks to Prussia.

* * *

 **Honestly, I don't think I've ever written a character analysis-type thing from another character's perspective like this. I hope it was sort of all right...?**

 **That is, I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for reading~!**


End file.
